Chapter Text
Elle, in all reality, should have been more concerned or at least confused by the yellow paint covering their previously white front door. They weren't, though. The voices in their head, which could charitably be called their thought process, were being quite noisy, and Elle found it hard to pay attention to the world around them because of it. The voices were screaming about a great many things. Some about how sensitive they are, some worrying about how they could ever make it in the real world if they couldn't get through family trivia night, but most were just chanting a chorus of "Go, go, go!" So, no, Elle was particularly preoccupied with the suddenly sunshiny state of the door, or even what they do once they were out of the house, as they escaped out of it.
Elle collapsed against the door as soon as they closed it, falling into tears and hyperventilating. The panic attack lasted longer than it normally does, perhaps the shame of having run away like a toddler who's been told that they couldn't get the cool dinosaur toy played a role in that. But, eventually, and slowly, Elle came back to their senses and untucked themself from the ball they'd tucked themself into.
It was only then that they realized that the place they sat in now was quite different from the dingy garage they had expected to see. They were in a long hallway that looked straight out of a 70s sitcom, with purple striped wallpaper and pink shag carpet. There were no windows but various repeating mirrors and accent tables with identical decor placed upon them.
“Oh," they thought themself "I've lost it." The idea is oddly sobering, well, as much as an insane person can claim to be in their right mind. But what else could it be? They aren't dreaming, they can tell you that. Sure what's happening now is beyond reason, but everything up until now has made too much sense forthis to be a dream. So, they've gone insane, it was bound to happen at some point. They've felt crazy for years. Would a normal person throw a fit because they couldn't remember the standard algorithm, or what an adjective was? Elle doesn't think so. They were going crazy for years, they've just crossed the point of no return, that's all. And with that, things just seem so simple, don't they? All of those anxieties, all those worries, they don't matter now. They're gone and so they don't have to worry about anything. Sure they'll never get to publish a book or start a family like they hoped, but those were always pipe dreams, and now they're free.
Elle pushed themself off the floor and wiped away the moisture from their face. Looking over their shoulder, Elle found that the door they had just been lent against was missing, replaced by a hallway, indistinguishable from the one in front of them, both of which seemed to stretch on forever. "Well, if I'm gonna be trapped in the backrooms, at least it's well decorated," They jested internally, snickering at their own joke.
The hallways did not, in fact, go on for ever. After a long while of walking they came to a spiral staircase. Elle's not sure if they were enclosed by walls, they think they were at some points but not others. The mirrors which continued to line the walls(?) were mostly funhouse mirrors. Elle used to be scared of mirrors, paranoid that something was going to crawl out of them, but now that they've established that it's all in their head, who's to say that anything that crawls out the mirrors are real? Elle finds the nihilism of the whole thing rather comforting.
The building itself is rather entertaining. The colors and shapes and patterns are all very pleasing to their maximalist eye. The tricks it tries to play on them feel more like games than torment. Sometimes the ground would wobble like a water bed or the walls would shift to close them in, but it would stop when Elle called its bluff. At some point Elle began to think of it as exploring. Going on adventure through their own mind. It was honestly rather delightful, that is before the thing showed up.
It was just around the bend of a hallway and it stopped Elle in their tracks. It was far too spindly and far too tall to be human, having to curve its neck at a weird angle to fit in the room. Every part of it looked carved and sharpened and its hands looked like they had far too many bones. Distantly, Elle makes the connection to the Other Mother from Coraline. The fuzzy cardigan they wear looks almost comical on its grotesque figure. Its long blonde hair curls into spirals and fractals and shapes they couldn't comprehend. But it's the face which fascinates Elle the most. Its mouth, which is too big for its face, is drawn into a carefully straight line and its cartoonishly big eyes are like an optical illusion, a collection of falling circles and ever changing colors. With those eyes, it looks at Elle with confoundment, as they are just as puzzling to it, as it is the them. "You are not as afraid as the others," it observed.
Its voice was lilting and creaky like door hinges, and Elle had a rather hard time listening to it. It takes a long moment for Elle's mind to catch up to their pounding heart, even longer for their mouth to begin moving. "What are you?" They question eventually. This pulls a laugh from the creature's lips. If its voice is hard to listen to, then its laugh is down right impossible to bear, and Elle didn't bother hiding the grimace they made at it. It laughs for an uncomfortably long time, but when it pulls itself together, they train an unnaturally curling grin at Elle and say with no small bit of amusement, "What a human thing to ask,"
Elle went to ask what it means but it cut them off. "Oh, I suppose I've kept you long enough." Elle heard a door swing open behind them. After a moment of hesitation, the thing nudges them backwards with its horrific boney hands. "Run along now, I can't get anything from you now." Elle doesn't entirely know where they're being told to go, but they'd rather anger the thing by refusing, so they turn around and walk through the yellow door.
They were surprised to find themself back in the entry way of their house. It seems like their mother, sitting in the living room with sullen eyes, was even more surprised to see them. She dropped everything and ran up to them in a flash, engulfing them in a hug. "Oh Elizabeth!" She exclaimed, "Oh, my baby, where have you been?” Her voice was raw, Elle didn't need to look to know she was crying. Elle didn't answer, partially because they didn't know and partially because they were suddenly aware of the hunger swiping at their stomach and the dryness of their throat. The only warning Elle had was a feeling of wooziness before they passed out.